


Assets Out of Containment

by Yggdrasil_Hugger



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic Park Original Trilogy (Movies), Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate POV, BioSyn (Jurassic Park), Dinosaur POV, Dinosaurs, Genetic Engineering, InGen | International Genetics Incorporated (Jurassic Park), Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28374573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yggdrasil_Hugger/pseuds/Yggdrasil_Hugger
Summary: “‘Monster’ is a relative term. To a canary, a cat is a monster. We’re just used to being the cat.” - Henry Wu.We’ve seen how the movies play out from the humans’ point of view. But to the dinosaurs, who have to deal with these weird, pink, squishy, loud critters showing up all the time? It’s no wonder they react the way they do. Basically, various retellings of and speculative scenes from the dinosaurs’ perspective.
Kudos: 8





	1. My First Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> I lost motivation on the original one, but I’m going to try again. Sorry for the inconvenience!

Thunder roared as the rain pelted down on the jungle leaves, lightning flashing above. I shifted closer to Packmother’s chest, the comfortable heat of her scales beating the slick coldness of the rain. She made a low chirruping noise to me, rubbing my jaws with hers. The storm raged on, wind howling through the branches. Then, in the distance, Greenclaws hooted.   
  
Packmother’s attention shifted then, from comforting me (obviously the priority) to whatever was bothering Greenclaws. She gave a long hoot in response, then cocked her head, waiting. It wasn’t more than two heartbeats when Greenclaws gave another hoot. Packmother stood, and I squeaked in protest. Something was _always_ bothering Greenclaws. Didn’t mean she should go investigate. The spoor-head had probably gotten his foot stuck in a log.   
  


Greenclaws hooted again, and this time Longteeth hooted as well. Packmother’s lips pulled back, baring her teeth, then she hooted once more. Now _that_ was worrying. Greenclaws might have been a spoor-head, but Longteeth was a warrior. He never hooted unless there was something really wrong. And apparently, there was. Packmother chirped to me, giving me a final bit of comfort before standing and bounding off into the slick green brush.   
  


She left me! She _left_ me! How dare she! How dare she leave me, all alone in the wet and the dark and the cold. Now I was by myself, in a hollow log, with the sky falling. All... by myself. Oh no. This was not good. Very, _very_ not good. I gave my longest chirp I could. There was no answer except for the frogs trying to escape the downpour. I looked out of the log, to see if Packmother had changed her mind and had come rushing back. She hadn’t, and my snout got wet.   
  


_Well_ , I told myself, _if Packmother isn’t coming, then I’ll have to go to Packmother_. So I picked myself up, scratched myself, and trundled off into the darkness. There wasn’t much light to see by, but luckily enough, there seemed to be daylight in two small patches. I cocked my head. This was strange. Before I could think of something, a loud crash made me jump. It wasn’t thunder, and it wasn’t the powerful roar of the Far-Tyrant, either. I shivered. Packmother had told me of the power of the Far-Tyrant, how it was twice as tall as even her, and many times larger. She said that it would eat me if given the chance. I did not want to give it one.   
  


I followed the source of the sound to a strange sight: some kind of creature that was _making_ the light, and another creature that was making some kind of a noise to itself. The smaller creature was more colorful, but smaller. _It must be the male of the duo_ , I thought. Longteeth was smaller than Packmother, but his crest was much prettier. His was flaming orange and yellow, whereas Packmother’s was a dirty greenish-brown. The smaller creature was also yellow, so I named it Yellow. It stumbled over to a tree, mumbling something.   
  


I walked closer to get a better look. Yellow must have heard me, because he looked around, wary. It didn’t matter. I was already behind the tree when he stopped to look. I peeked around the tree to look at the creature, making a friendly chirping noise. That always worked on Packmother, and this was my favorite game. Yellow looked around for the source of the noise, but I was already on the other side. Yellow was slow, and not very good at this game.   
  


This time, though, he caught me. I chirped cheerfully, ready to move onto the next part of the game, where we tussle and I win. At least, that’s how me and Packmother play it. I used to play with Longteeth but that time I didn’t win, and he bit me on the tail. I don’t play with Longteeth anymore. But instead, Yellow walked away. He seemed anxious. But I wanted to play, so I followed him. I chirped to let him know I was still there, and he turned to look at me.   
  


Good! Now we can play. But he didn’t want to play, because he showed his frill at me. I chirped at him to let him know that I would play if he wanted, and something shook in the bushes behind me. I turned to look, bored of Yellow, but there was nothing there. Just a stick. I looked back to Yellow, this time intent on playing, but he kept walking. He was still mumbling, and something about his mumbling made me feel bad.   
  


Yellow tried to walk up a hill, but he slipped. He fell on his back, looking at me. There was something about the way he glared at me, that I realized I didn’t want to play. I just wanted Packmother. And the easiest way to get Packmother was to get food. I had a brilliant idea. I cocked my head at Yellow, trying to get the best angle. Then, I showed my frill at him. Brilliant yellows and greens shook as I snarled at Yellow, then I spit. A thick blackish-green goop hit Yellow’s chin, but not his eyes. If I wanted to get food, I needed to hit Yellow’s eyes. Yellow only looked surprised at my spit, and he touched it.  
  
Then, with odd speed, he shimmied all the way up to the bigger creature. She didn’t do anything, and I was starting to think it wasn’t a creature at all. He looked back at me, giving me the perfect shot. I spat, and this time the goop hit him right in the eyes. Yellow screamed, blinded by my spit. He climbed into the light-thing, trying to get away from me, but hit his head and fell on his back. I thought that was hilarious, and it gave me enough time to climb into the other side. Yellow stood up and got inside of the light-thing, closing it behind him. He rubbed his eyes, just in time for me to show him my frill again.   
  


Yellow screamed as I jumped on him, my claws slashing at his squishy arms. One of my claws sliced open his belly, and he reached for it, trying desperately to hold it inside. My jaws clamped around his throat, and with one swift move, I had food instead of Yellow. I hooted then, and Greenclaws, Longteeth, and Packmother hooted back. After almost 100 heartbeats, they were there, and we shared Yellow. 


	2. The Long Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don’t go into the long grass!

It was a quiet night, the only sounds were bugs chirping and wind rustling the grass. Then, distant screeching. The screeching grew louder, as whatever was making the noise grew closer. Light flashes through the grass as many creatures dashed into the field, screeching all the way. They made such a racket, tearing through the grass without a care for whatever might inhabit it. Point is, they stepped on my tail.   
  


I gave a snarl to whatever rude creature dared step on my tail. It fell backwards, scuttling away in fear. Good. Stupid pink thing should be scared. I was terror, the claws of night, death made flesh and given impunity to kill! To my right, three of my packmates snarled. The meaning was clear: attack! I snarled the message to others. Through the fields, the grass snarled and hissed as these stupid, loud things ran by, flashing light.   
  


I made ready to catch one, then struck. My claws dug into its sides, piercing the skin and making it scream louder than before. I snorted and bit down on its neck, silencing the stupid things voice. I snapped my head up to find my next prey. It was more fun to kill than to eat, and I was already full from an earlier hunt. To my left and right, more of the screeching creatures went down as my packmates descended. I locked eyes with one, and it looked at me in surprise. Its screeching mouth made an _o_ as I dashed toward it. It fell backwards as I pushed off the ground, leaping onto the creature. I slashed its stomach with my claws.

It was chaos, bloody and wonderful chaos. The screeching creatures were terribly easy to take down. At a certain point, it stopped being as fun. It was very long before we grew bored, and stalked off to resume our sleep. But once more, the attack snarl made its way through the grass. I didn’t feel like it, but I didn’t feel like being snapped at either, so I began to look for the prey.   
  


This time, the prey wasn’t screeching. It simply ran. Now that was something I did want to do, so I ran with it, snapping at it. Then, it fell down a hill. That was where I stopped. I was already full, tired, and I wasn’t pitching myself down a hill for some non-screeching screeching creatures. I slinked off into the grass, ready to curl up from exhaustion. And my tail still hurt.


End file.
